


Snowed Inn

by startswithhope



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blackouts, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Coming Out, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, canon adjacent, hallmark movie vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24259885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: Two strangers. A blizzard. A blackout. What could go wrong? More importantly, what could go right?
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 167
Kudos: 475





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is a multi-chapter story that I will post in 4 parts (each part will contain a few chapters). The story is complete, so I will post the next part every two days. (M, W, F, Sun)
> 
> \- In this story, instead of owning the entire town, the Rose Family owns Schitt's Creek Lodge, but consider the majority of canon still in place. Hence, the canon adjacent tag. 
> 
> \- When I started this back in December, the idea was to model this after a Hallmark holiday movie, so you'll find many of those cliche romantic comedy tropes woven into this by design.

“How long do we have until…?”

“Your dad says he thinks he can squeeze out three more months, maybe four.”

The resignation in Stevie’s voice speeds up the panic spiral in David’s belly, not that he needs to feel any more nauseous than he already does. He can’t have her giving up, not now, not just when he’s finally out of his rut and close to formulating a plan. Or at least an outline. An outline of a plan. 

They can’t let this place close. It’s all they have.

“We just need to make some changes, liven the place up, give people a reason to give us another look.”

David looks over at Stevie in hopes of any sign of encouragement, but she’s just staring at the frayed cuff of her flannel and worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“How’s the proposal coming?” she asks him when she looks up to find him staring.

Now it’s his turn to look away. “I’m just refining a few minor details,” he hedges, “I’ll probably be ready when they all get back from the Sunrise Bay convention.”

“Probably? David, you’ve walked me through this so many times I hear you reciting it to me in my nightmares. You know your ideas are good, or at least, in my limited experience, they sound pretty good to me.”

“A ringing endorsement.”

He drips sarcasm from every syllable and Stevie retaliates with a well deserved eye roll as she pushes away from the counter and ducks into the back room. When she reemerges, she has her coat and shoulder bag in her hand and she’s stuffing her long dark hair beneath a bright red wool beanie.

“Ok, I’ve gotta run a few errands before this storm gets worse. We’ve only got one guest checking in so I think you can handle things....”

“You’re really leaving me all alone? That doesn’t seem like a good idea. Haven’t you ever heard of the buddy system?”

“David. You’re in a lodge built for winter travelers. I know things are dire, but the one thing we’re actually prepared for here...is snow. But hey, I could always call Alexis and tell her she needs to come back…”

Putting his hand up to stop Stevie from speaking any further, David gives her a little shove so he can take her now abandoned spot behind the front desk.

“No. No, no, no. This is the first night in months that I’ve had the room to myself and I’m not doing anything to jeopardize that.”

“That’s what I thought. I’m outta here.”

She’s barely out the door when her head pops back in and David finds himself the recipient of a very stern look by his best friend.

“Be nice to our guest, please.”

The only response Stevie gets is David’s middle finger.

* * *

His knuckles feel permanently stuck in position from gripping his steering wheel like his only lifeline, even now, haphazardly parked in the empty lot outside of the Schitt’s Creek Lodge. The one road that leads to this place was steep and his eight year old sedan is not made for driving in snow. He’s not entirely sure how he made it here alive. 

“Fuck.”

Patrick doesn’t curse much, but fuck, that was a lot. Peeling his fingers loose, he runs his hands through his short hair as he stretches to crack the tension that has settled into his spine. It’s been a stressful few months and he’d hoped this getaway would be a relief, but so far, it feels like another heavy weight has been added to his already overburdened shoulders. But, he’s a pragmatist, or at least he’s good at pretending to be one, so he takes a deep breath, grabs his duffel from the passenger seat and braces himself for the walk to the front door. After two months spent in Ray’s spare bedroom, driving five miles in a whiteout blizzard will just have to have been worth it for a weekend of privacy.

By the time he’s pushed himself into the small reception area, he’s covered head to toe in a fresh layer of snow. Cringing, he immediately feels bad about the puddle he’s creating and looks around for someone to apologize to. The desk is empty and there doesn’t seem to be anyone… 

His eyes fall to a man in the corner bent over and scribbling in what looks to be a journal, long, elegant fingers laden with silver rings moving across the page with obvious determination. He can’t see much of his face, but his hair is dark and perfectly styled, making Patrick’s fingers curl with an unexpected urge to touch. Patrick doesn’t have time to process that though, because the man is now looking up at him and he’s, well, Patrick isn’t quite sure of how to qualify his initial reaction beyond stunned. He’s stunning. And now he’s standing and coming towards him and Patrick gives himself a little shake in hopes of kicking his systems back online. 

“Hi, do you work here? I’m checking in.”

The man walks behind the desk from the far corner, answering Patrick’s question, bringing him close enough for Patrick to see that his eyes are just a shade lighter than his inky hair. 

“And you brought the snow in with you, I see.”

Patrick catches the man’s gaze and smiles, hoping to see even the tiniest crack in the beautiful facade. He smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, but Patrick takes that as a win anyway.

“It’s getting pretty bad out there. I almost didn’t make it up the hill.”

The man’s eyes widen and he looks over Patrick’s shoulder to the front windows as if he’s just now realizing there’s a blizzard happening outside.

“I got caught up and stopped paying attention.”

“Good thing we’re in a ski lodge, right?” Patrick jokes, feeling some of his usual confidence settle in his chest now that the man’s features have taken on a bit of nervousness, making him look more real and less like a perfect mannequin from a trendy clothing store. 

“Right, yeah. But to be clear, this is just a lodge. We haven’t had skiing here...for a while, thanks to this town’s unusually long summers. Anyway, let’s get you checked in. Name?”

“Patrick Brewer.”

“Nice to meet you, Patrick, I’m David.”

David, okay, we have a name. A name that for some reason sounds like it should be familiar, but Patrick’s too flustered to pinpoint why. David looks up from his computer to give Patrick a quick smile and a quick nod, but far too quickly refocuses on the screen.

“You’re our only guest, so you can have your pick of rooms...oh...wait.”

Patrick watches as David’s eyebrows furrow before he heaves out a long sigh.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just noticed that you’re booked in our couples chateau. Is someone else…”

“No!” Patrick didn’t mean to shout that, but it happened anyway. “Um, no, it’s just me. I won a two-night stay here at a business leader’s conference last year. It was the door prize at the closing night reception and when I made the reservation there was someone, but not...no, it’s just me.” He somehow stops himself from continuing on and explaining that it was winning this getaway that introduced him to the town of Schitt’s Creek in the first place.

Patrick looks up from where he’d been staring at his fingers to find David looking curiously at him and he does his best to force his lips back into an imitation of his most confident smile. He’s not usually a rambler, but everything about David has him feeling a bit off balance. 

“Well, it’s our nicest room, a separate bungalow actually, so we’ll have to go back outside. In the snow.”

Annoyance is evident in David’s expression and Patrick can’t help but think that frustration looks good on him. His lips are pursed and the muscles along his jaw are pulsing with tension and Patrick should really stop staring at this man’s face. 

David turns away abruptly and walks away into a room behind the counter, leaving Patrick standing, well, dripping, unsure of what he’s supposed to do. But then, David’s back, and once again, Patrick is rendered speechless. If there was any tiny fraction of doubt left in Patrick’s brain about being gay, it’s been obliterated by the sight of David in black leather. The jacket he’s put on isn’t weather appropriate, but it’s just about the sexiest thing Patrick has ever seen and he wants to reach across the counter and run his fingers over every last zipper, feel the crinkle of the material against his knuckles as he gets his hands on the man underneath.

Yep. He’s gay. Very gay. Not that he didn’t know already, but he’s never felt more gay than this very moment.

David, apparently, is the human personification of everything Patrick always knew he wanted, but never quite allowed himself to admit. But there’s no hiding from himself anymore. 

One of those weights on his shoulders crumbles into a pile of rubble at his feet, creating a mess he has no idea how to clean up.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s fucking cold. And wet. And this fucking snow is probably flattening his hair. David reaches up in a poor attempt to shield his head from the furiously whipping blizzard, getting colder and wetter the closer he trudges to the bungalow ahead. Looking back, he sees Patrick close behind, his eyes focused on the ground, but his stupid smile somehow still firmly in place.

How can someone be smiling at a moment like this? More importantly, why does David even care?

He’s just a guest.

A guest with really pretty eyes that remind David of caramel popcorn, but David doesn’t have time to dwell on that. 

Digging into his pocket, he pulls out the key to the bungalow and groans when he sees the lock is covered with ice and snow. Mourning his manicure, he does his best to scrape away the ice, sighing in relief when he tries the key and the door pushes open. After flipping the lights on, he turns back and opens the door wide enough for Patrick to step inside, his shoulder brushing the front of David’s chest in the process. 

“This is nice,” Patrick says, “cozy and...oh…”

David looks to where Patrick’s gaze has fallen and cringes. He’d forgotten what this room looks like, with the red velvet bedspread and heart shaped pillows. 

“Romantic.”

Patrick’s voice cracks on the word and David feels his insides slightly unravel. He’s not equipped to deal with this right now. 

Ignoring the elephant in the room, David walks past Patrick further into the bungalow to turn on the rest of the lights. 

“Uh, you’ve got a small kitchenette over here and the bathroom is through that door. You’re free to use the fireplace, but don’t ask me how to build a fire as that wasn’t something I learned in boarding school. Oh, and there’s a phone by the bed if you need to...um...if you need to…”

Patrick chuckles and David’s eyes fly over to him, finding that damn smile wider than ever and those expressive eyes sparkling with, well, David’s not sure with what but they’re sparkling dammit.

“Make any calls?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

God, why is his brain shutting down? It’s probably just frozen. Yeah, that’s it.

Patrick walks past him towards the bathroom and switches on the light, disappearing inside for a moment before emerging without his jacket and towel in his hand. His eyes are still on David as he begins to dry his hair and David can’t help but notice the muscles of his biceps working beneath the thin material of his thin blue sweater. 

He needs to get out of here.

“The fridge should have a few sandwiches and some drinks and I think Twyla might have dropped off a muffin or two before she left. Whatever’s in there, it’s yours. I’ll be back in the main building if you need anything. But hopefully you don’t, because I’m here by myself and there’s a limit to what I’m willing to do.”

Patrick’s face registers amusement and David isn’t quite sure what to make of that, so he just backs up a few steps towards the door. He’s got work to do and he can’t get caught up in trying to figure this curious stranger out. 

“Okay, well, enjoy your stay.”

He’s almost out the door when he hears Patrick call out.

“Nice to meet you, David.”

Needing to get out of there, David just mumbles a “yeah…” in response and swiftly closes the door behind him. A gust of snowy wind almost knocks him back into the door and he curses into the blizzard as he makes his way back to the lodge. By the time he’s back inside, he’s soaked, slightly turned on and freezing. Two of those things he has a solution for, but the third, he’s not even remotely prepared to deal with.

* * *

Heart pillows hidden beneath the bed and a roaring fire warming his toes, Patrick is feeling much better about this room. Sure, the bedspread is garish and a reminder of things he’s desperately wanting to forget, but it’s quiet and warm and very little distraction from the buzzing of attraction working its way into every cell of his body whenever his mind wanders back to David. 

He feels...alive. And here, in this deserted lodge, there’s a freedom in just letting himself feel everything. Fully. And it’s a lot. It’s exciting and scary and kind of confusing, but it feels good. Like something has slid into place and…

The lights by the bed and over the mirror in the bathroom flicker and then all go out. 

It’s relatively dark except for the firelight and the reflection of the white of the snow through the windows and it’s kind of beautiful, if maybe a bit problematic. Then he hears a loud rumble and the lights all switch back on, with the addition of a whirring sound coming from outside that hadn’t been there before. 

Must be a generator, he thinks to himself, thankful that someone had thought of that. Pushing to his feet, he wanders to the window and looks towards the main building. The windows are all dark and the lights that had been illuminating the path to his bungalow are out. Maybe the main generator for the lodge hasn’t kicked in yet? 

It’s his curiosity, not a desire to see David again, that finds him bundled back into his coat and trudging back through the snow to investigate. Or at least that’s what he told himself as he’d laced up his boots.

It’s just approaching dusk, so there’s not enough natural light to illuminate much when he steps back into the reception area, but he can make out David clearly thanks to the light from his iPhone pressed against his cheek. He’s agitated. Very, very agitated.

“What do you mean the power is out?”

Whoever he’s talking to must have said something sarcastic, because David is almost immediately rolling his eyes and cutting them off.

“I know what it means to not have power, Stevie. I’m asking what caused it and when is it coming back on?”

Patrick closes the door behind him and David’s head snaps in his direction, obviously a bit startled. Holding up his hand in apology, Patrick smiles, feeling a bit out of place suddenly and unsure of what he’s supposed to do. David, however, just shakes his head and begins to pace behind the desk.

“So I’m just going to freeze to death by myself while I wait for Bob to plow the road so the arborists from Elmdale can remove the 100 year old tree on top of the power-line and then wait for the power company, also coming from Elmdale, to figure out what to do with said power line. Did I get all of that right? This is how I am going to die?”

It’s a close thing, but somehow Patrick manages to stifle his laughter. He’s not even bothered that David said he was by himself, which he’s obviously not, because he finds David’s dramatics entertaining and for reasons unknown, kinda hot. He’s definitely unafraid to just be himself, in whatever form that happens to take. Patrick finds himself a bit envious.

“How is that supposed to help me, exactly?”

David stops his pacing and looks up at Patrick, listening as someone is saying something that seems, possibly, to be calming him down.

“Well, I’m forever grateful for the minuscule amount of help you were able to provide, Stevie. I expect a much grander effort to be put towards my funeral whenever someone finds it in their heart to come collect my body.”

David ends his call with so much force Patrick fully expects to see a fingertip shaped dent in the glass on his phone. 

“Well, I take it you heard the situation we find ourselves in?”

“Yeah, sounds like a mess. The power in the bungalow…”

“I know, you’ve got a generator, Stevie just informed me of that. While also informing me that we do not, in fact, have a generator for the main lodge, or we do, but it’s ancient and broken, information she knowingly and brazenly hid from me earlier today. Just another thing to add to my ever growing list of things that need to change around here.”

Patrick needs a moment to catch up to David’s frenetic energy, so he just stands there, watching as David makes piles with the papers on the desk and unmakes them and makes them again. He’s never met anyone like this before. And he’s beginning to think that’s because David is rare, like a unicorn, a very attractive and very anxious unicorn. A unicorn who needs somewhere warm to wait out this storm.

“You should stay in the bungalow with me until the power comes back on.”

David’s hands freeze from where he’s straightening his pile and looks up, eyes wide momentarily before he manages to take back control of his features.

“You don’t have to…?

“I’d like to.” Wait, is that what he meant to say? “I mean, if you’d like to, there’s plenty of room for both of us. And it’s going to get cold in here, fast.”

The forward trajectory of Patrick’s life feels like it’s on pause while he waits for David to respond. He watches David watch him, then look out the window. His eyes are still on the snow piling up outside when he finally speaks again.

“I’ve already faced more indignities than I can count since arriving in this town and freezing to death would be an appropriate end to this ordeal, but I’ll take you up on your offer.” His gaze shifts over to Patrick and Patrick reflexively gives him an encouraging smile. “Thank you.”

Patrick has a feeling David isn’t used to taking help from other people, or maybe isn't quite accustomed to it being offered?

“Is there more food in here that we can pack up? We might be stuck for a few days if this storm doesn’t let up.”

“Oh, um, yes. In the back room there’s a fridge with more sandwiches and some drinks. Can I leave you here to get those while I run to my room to pack a bag?”

“Of course. Do you have a flashlight?”

David waves his phone in the air as he steps out from behind the desk.

“The flashlight on this phone has gotten me out of many a tight spot, and helped me win Elton John’s New Year’s Eve Scavenger Hunt on three different occasions.”

Said light illuminates David’s path as he disappears around the corner, leaving Patrick standing there with his jaw hanging open in speechless awe. 

Yep, he’s definitely a unicorn.


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, you figured out how to light a fire? That’s impressive.”

David hears Patrick’s chuckle and looks over to find him smiling to himself as he shrugs out of his winter-appropriate navy blue parka. This guy really has a thing for the color blue, but David’s in head to toe black and knows the power of having a signature color. It looks good on him, he has to admit, the cool tones a pleasant contrast to the amber flecks in Patrick’s eyes and the ginger undertones of his too short hair. 

“You should put your shoes on the hearth so they can dry,” Patrick offers and David looks down at his soaked Rick Owens high-tops creating a puddle next to his feet. 

Yeah, that’s a good idea. Grabbing the shoes, he shuffles over to the fire and sets them down to dry, suddenly finding himself frozen with indecision on what to do next. Patrick, however, doesn’t seem to have the same issue, as he’s efficiently unpacking their food into his small refrigerator as if the situation they’ve found themselves in is completely normal. He wonders what it’s like to be this unflappable?

“You can have the bathroom if you want to change into dry clothes?”

Patrick is smiling at him again and David’s insides warm just enough to unfreeze his limbs and get him moving. Walking back towards the door, he grabs his overnight bag, avoiding the wet footprints he’d left on the walnut stained wood floor so as to not add wet socks to this already frustrating equation. 

“I’ll just be a minute.”

“Take your time,” Patrick replies as they pass in the cramped space and David gives him a small nod as he makes a swift escape into the bathroom. 

Okay. He can do this. He just needs to take a few deep breaths and, oh god, fix his hair. David’s reflection in the sub-par mirror succeeds in redirecting his thoughts to putting himself back together instead of the man on the other side of the door and this latest ridiculous chapter of his tragic life story. After stripping his sweater over his head and toeing out of his jeans, he pulls out another sweater from his bag, his Neil Barrett with the lightning bolt that he hopes will portray a confidence he isn’t quite feeling. He knows that others might find his wardrobe silly, but he feels strongly about the power of creating an aesthetic, how it helps to ground him when the world around him refuses to fall into any sense of order. Pulling on his drop-crotch joggers and stepping into his black Uggs, he feels his breath begin to slow and the edges of his near-panicked state soften. 

He can do this.

When he reemerges from the bathroom, he feels like himself again. His hair, while a bit wet still, is back in place and with a quick tug at the hem, his sweater is doing its job. Patrick is on the small couch in front of the fire in the same blue sweater, but his jeans have been replaced by sweatpants in department store gray, which look cozier than anything costing less than twenty dollars should. Fuck, he’s really expending too many thoughts on this very square, probably very straight man.

Patrick points towards the fireplace where David finds his leather portfolio laid out on a towel.

“I tried to dry it off. I hope the snow didn’t ruin anything that’s inside.”

“Knowing my luck, I’m not holding out hope,” David replies with defeat, fully expecting all of his plans to be ruined. Kneeling down, he unzips the side of the portfolio and holds his breath as he lifts the top.

“Oh my god, I think it’s all dry!”

He’s smiling like a kid at Christmas and looks over at Patrick, finding that he’s smiling, too. He gets lost in that smile for a second too long before looking back down to rifle through the stack of notes and drawings to make sure everything is indeed intact.

“Mind if I ask what all of that is?” Patrick asks.

Does David want to share this with him? He doesn’t know him at all. But they’re stuck here together for who knows how long, and talking about this might be preferable to awkward small talk. What the hell? Gathering everything against his chest, he pushes to his feet and looks for somewhere to sit. Of course, the only options are the bed or next to Patrick on the two person couch.

“Not sure if you’ll find this interesting at all,” he says as he chooses the spot on the couch, “but these are my ideas on how to save this place from shutting down.”

David sneaks a look at Patrick as he settles himself and finds those big brown eyes widened with surprise.

“Oh, I’m, well, I’m definitely interested. Uh...in hearing your ideas. I actually work in small business management, so, if you’re open to it, I might be able to help?”

Of course this guy’s a business major. That makes complete sense.

* * *

  
  
After an initial bit of adorable fumbling, David has walked Patrick through a slew of mostly great ideas on how he thinks the lodge can be improved and some initial plans on how to better advertise to travelers looking for an affordable option for a getaway. A lot of it is focused on aesthetic improvements, which Patrick knows can go a long way in the hospitality space.

“These are really great ideas, David. Especially your plans for the gift shop. Using local artisans is pretty inventive and you can use those relationships to help expand your marketing arms.”

David’s lips twist into a crooked smile and he mumbles “thanks” before quickly looking back down at the papers spread out over both of their laps. For someone seemingly so self-assured, he’s really not that great at taking compliments.

“I’m wondering, have you checked to see if the lodge can be registered as a historical landmark?”

“Um, how on earth could this place be considered historical? It’s a dump.”

“Well, the state of the place isn’t really a determining factor. All you’d have to prove is some historical significance. I’m assuming that since it’s called The Schitt’s Creek Lodge, it was owned by Roland’s family at some point?”

David’s eyes snap over to him and he looks at him curiously. “How do you know Roland?”

“Oh sorry, I’m so used to everyone in Schitt’s Creek knowing everything about everyone that I neglected to mention that I moved to town about two months ago. I’m working at Ray’s, helping him with business licenses and tax prep so he can focus more on photography and his new closet organizing service.”

“I can’t fathom a reason why you’d actually want to move here.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Patrick looks down at his hands as he decides how much he wants to share. He’s been avoiding calls from his parents for weeks and Rachel, she’s been texting him, a lot. Schitt’s Creek has proven to be a good hideout, but he’s worried that the shame he carries might be beginning to show. He’s never been selfish before. And even if he knows this was the only choice he could make, it doesn’t sit well and he knows he won’t be able to hide forever.

“I just needed a fresh start,” he says honestly, hoping David won’t poke beneath the fragile surface of that very vague response.

“I get that.”

Patrick catches David’s gaze and neither of them say anything and those tingles of attraction are back, making his mouth feel a bit dry and sweat to gather beneath his sweater. When David looks away again, it’s almost a relief as Patrick needs a moment to take stock of his body’s reactions and wrestle back some control.

“Since you know Ray, I’m sure you’ve heard about my family and what brought us here. Going from the height of luxury to all living together in our one last asset, this run down lodge that my Dad only bought me as a joke, it’s been the definition of a fresh start.”

“It took me a minute to make the connection, but yeah, I’ve heard a few things,” Patrick admits, sifting through the mounds of gossip Ray’s shared with him these past few months to pull the stories about the Rose Family back to the surface. He’d forgotten they’d owned this particular lodge, but he should have put two and two together the moment he saw David in the lobby. But, he’d been a bit distracted. Everything about David had scrambled his brain. 

David clears his throat, redirecting Patrick back to the present.

“So, about Roland. Yes, his family built this place back when they founded the town. I can’t remember exactly when that was, but it’s definitely old as fuck.”

“Old as fuck might equal historical,” Patrick says on a laugh. “I’ll check in with Ray when we get out of here. If we can get you the designation, it will be a huge tax break and you’ll get listed in a few historical guides.”

“You really want to help?”

There’s a hint of insecurity in David’s expression as he looks at Patrick and it tugs at something deep in his heart, a desire to be somehow important to the man sitting next to him, a desire to help him succeed. He hasn’t felt a connection like this with someone in a long time, maybe ever. God he wishes he could go back, erase all the hurt he’s caused from pretending that he has.

“I do, David.”

His phone on the bedside table alights with an incoming text, but he doesn’t get up to see who it’s from. He’d rather keep hiding here with David for a little while longer.


	4. Chapter 4

“You’ve tripled my to do list, you know that?”

Patrick’s laugh is as warm as his smile and David drags his bottom lip between his teeth in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his enjoyment. This man feels both unexpected and inevitable, as if these polar opposite options can both be true. He’s nothing like someone who ever would have caught David’s eye, but as the hours have passed, every smile, kindness, and heated debate on ideas have David’s eyes firmly focused. 

But he knows nothing of Patrick’s preferences. And sooner than later, they’ll be sharing a bed.

“If some of these grants I’m helping you apply for come through, you could think about bringing me on to help long term. I know you have your dad and sister, and Stevie, but I’d really enjoy seeing some of these ideas get on their feet.”

Interesting.

“If they don’t, you know I won’t be able to afford…”

“Oh, I’m gonna get the money.”

David’s jaw drops slightly at the fierce determination on Patrick’s face, dripping from every syllable of that sentence. It seems like there’s maybe more than just an interest in the lodge lingering behind those wide eyes and David can’t deny the excitement he feels bubbling beneath his skin. 

“Okay, well, first thing we’ll need to do is meet with Alexis. She’s taking all of these marketing courses and actually has some good ideas. But honestly, I just need her to sit down with my dad and have her explain social media. There was this thing with coasters and my dad still has no idea what he did wrong.”

Patrick’s face has been taken over by another one of his brilliant smiles and David finds himself smiling right back.

“Got it.”

“Good.”

“And since Stevie is part owner, we’ll need to get her okay on everything you’re proposing, but she’s just learning about what it means to be a business owner and is open to anything that might save this place.”

David watches Patrick’s smile fade just a fraction and his eyes shift their focus away from David towards the fire. He doesn’t know this guy well enough to translate his body language yet, but he seems suddenly unsure, maybe a bit less confident. 

“So, Stevie, she’s your…?”

Patrick doesn’t finish the question, but his eyes are back on David’s now and there’s a lot more than curiosity swimming in those baby browns.

Oh.  _ Ohhhh. _

“Best Friend,” he blurts out, his voice an octave too high. “She’s frustrating and sometimes too lazy, droll, but in a good way and has been the actual savior of my sanity since the moment we first met. I’d be lost without her, but if you ever tell her I said any of that, I’ll deny it until I’m old and gray. Not that I’ll ever be gray. I intend to find a workaround for that somehow.”

David’s breath goes out of him in a long whoosh at Patrick’s laugh, not because of the volume of it, but the way it transforms him. It’s like David had been looking at him through a smudged window and this laugh, it cleaned the glass and left everything shiny and new. Something has shifted between them, he can feel it. And that’s not something his rom-com addled brain has conjured up. Or, at least he doesn’t think it is.

“Your secret’s safe with me, David. But, I think...if anyone could pull off salt and pepper hair, I’d venture that’d be you.”

Is this how business majors flirt? Bigger question, why did that awkward compliment make David’s stomach do an unsteady flip?

“I’m expecting Gwyneth and her Goop gurus to solve aging before that time comes, but thank you.”

“Goop?”

Uninterested in the length of time it would take to explain Gwynie’s vanity project, he just waves his hand to shoo that topic away.

“Not important, trust me.”

Leaning forward, he gathers his proposal back into a neat pile and carefully slots it into the leather portfolio, feeling a renewed confidence that he’s on the right track with how to move forward.

“Thank you, Patrick,” he says earnestly, looking over his shoulder at him with a smile. “You’re somehow exactly who I needed to get snowed in with.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

Fuck, that confidence is entirely too sexy.

But two can play that game.

“You should.”

Patrick’s eyes widen a fraction and David clocks him taking a quick glance down at his lips, which sure, might be curiosity he’s seen in other straight men before, but his senses are communicating that maybe there’s more to it. He should just ask. Turning back to his portfolio, he zips up the side, sets it on the hearth and takes a steadying breath before leaning back and angling his body a bit towards Patrick.

“So, now that you know more about me than I feel at all comfortable with, how about you tell me something about you?”

The smile falls from Patrick’s lips and David immediately regrets his question, but before he can say something to take it back, Patrick’s done a quick recovery and his smile, while a bit forced, is back.

“Nothing much to tell, really. I’m a pretty average guy.”

“Average is a misnomer. What’s average for you would be vastly different from what I might consider average. You seem like a smart, friendly, perhaps overly confident guy to me. That’s not really average in my previous experience.”

“Tell me more about this previous…”

“Nope, you’re deflecting. It’s your turn,” David teases with a quick smack of his hand to Patrick’s shoulder. The touch is quick, but David takes note of how good Patrick’s body feels against his fingers. “Tell me something real.”

The sigh Patrick heaves is bordering on dramatic, but when he starts to speak, his tone is dripping with relief.

“I ended up in Schitt’s Creek by chance, well sort of. After finally admitting to myself that I wasn’t happy back home, I packed up my stuff one morning and just left, navigating to this little town I’d only ever heard of because of this weekend getaway I’d won. I still feel like absolute garbage about the people I left behind, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it was the best decision I’ve ever made. A lot of things have become clear with distance, with room to breathe.”

“It might surprise you to hear it, but I know exactly how you feel,” David admits. Being ripped from his old life and deposited here, it had somehow proved to be a godsend, if he believed in things like that. And learning that this lodge is the same thing that brought them both to this strange town, it’s like a knot’s been tied between them by some invisible force.

Patrick’s gaze shifts from where he’d been boring holes in his hands up to David’s eyes and the look they exchange has the tiny hairs on the back of David’s neck prickling his skin.

“It doesn’t surprise me at all.”

David can feel his breath speeding up the longer Patrick’s eyes are on his and honestly, one of them should probably look away. But the energy arcing between them, it’s charging like a battery that’s been dead for too long finally getting some much needed juice.

Patrick’s eyes drop to David’s lips again, more pointedly this time, and David’s control snaps. He’s leaning in before he’s even registered he’d made a decision to. The heat rolling off of Patrick’s body is beckoning him closer and he’s almost…

A loud bang and ear-piercing screech breaks the quiet and the lights in the bungalow all descend into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Part I! Part II to come on Wednesday. Please don't be shy about leaving comments, if you're so inclined. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II - it may be cold outside, but things between David and Patrick are definitely heating up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the fun feedback to Part I! Your comments have been a real bright spot during this crazy time of isolation. This fic starts to earn its rating in Part II, so...enjoy.

“Fuck!”

David’s curse, while shouted, sounds like it’s coming from a mile away. Patrick’s heart is pounding so loudly between his ears that the walls around them could be crashing down right now and he’d probably barely register it. 

He’d just been seconds away from being kissed by a man for the very first time. And not just any man. David. David who he’s known for less than a day but has somehow wedged himself into a very soft, very sensitive part of Patrick’s heart. 

David’s up on his feet, but Patrick feels cemented to the couch, unwilling to move from this spot that feels monumental. God, how can he get David back down here? 

“Patrick! What are we going to do?”

Oh. Okay, he’s got to start functioning like a human. Like a human whose life wasn’t just shaken to its core. Okay. He can do this.

Taking a quick breath to give his lungs much needed air, he plasters on a smile and pushes up from the couch. And because he can’t help himself, he steps closer to David. Reaching up, he uses the excuse of wanting to soothe to give him a reason to place his hands on David’s arms and give him a gentle squeeze.

“We’ll be okay, David. We’ve got the fireplace and a mountain of firewood.”

“I will not die here, Patrick. There’s only so many indignities a man can endure.”

Fuck, he really likes David Rose. 

Chuckling, he moves his hands gently over David’s sweater, fighting the urge to slide them all the way down his arms and entwine their fingers. A quick rush of heat flashes up his neck at the thought of holding hands with this beautifully strange man and he bites the inside of his lip to bring himself back to reality.

“We’re not dying, David. I promise.”

“My luck has just been really shit lately, so forgive me for being pessimistic about our chances.”

David’s fighting back a smile now, so Patrick assumes he’s back from the edge and reluctantly drops his hands. His fingers itch to reach back out, so Patrick digs both hands deep in his pockets to fight the impulse.

“Um, it’ll be fully dark outside soon, so we should use the last bit of light from the windows to…” Looking around, he takes stock of the wood bedframe and hopes it isn’t too heavy to move. “Will you help me slide the couch over to the corner?”

David’s looking at him with confusion and Patrick realizes he should probably explain himself.

“We’re going to want to move the bed in front of the fire.”

One of David’s thick eyebrows lifts and his mouth curls into a ridiculously sexy smirk that Patrick has to look away from in fear of his body reacting in very obvious ways.

“Sounds cozy,” David drawls as he slowly bends down to push the coffee table towards the bathroom. Patrick can’t be sure if he’s making a show of it, but he takes in the view greedily, more openly than he’s ever done with another man before tonight. David’s head is turned the other way though, so he can’t be aware of Patrick’s ogling of his ass, hopefully. Or not?

They don’t speak as they work together to slide the small couch to the far end of the room, but glances are stolen and smiles are definitely shared. Patrick has no idea what he’s about to get himself into with this man, and there’s a huge part of him that’s scared out of his wits, but it’s not enough to stop him from wanting to find out anyway. 

Moving the bed proves to be a bigger challenge. David complains the whole time and they have to stop to take a break a few times, but eventually they get it pushed right up against the hearth and both collapse onto the mattress, out of breath and muscles aching.

“I’m adding to my proposal a redesign of our bungalow. The bed is staying here. I’m never moving it again.”

Patrick laughs as his breathing slowly returns to normal and lets his head roll towards David on the mattress.

“It makes sense to have it here anyway. It’s more romantic.”

Oh god, did he really just say that out loud?

David’s head shifts to face him and they share a look so charged Patrick’s muscles tighten in anticipation.

“Yeah?” David asks, his voice soft and full of other unasked questions. Patrick watches as he tongue peeks out to quickly wet his lips and all Patrick can do is nod, nod and clench the quilt at his hip into a tight fist. When David rolls up onto his side towards him, Patrick stops breathing altogether. He’s rendered speechless and isn’t sure if he can move, but he needs David to know that he wants this, whatever this is. As pointedly as he can, he lets his gaze fall to David’s lips and lingers there, slowly opening his own mouth a fraction to draw a slow, very unsteady breath into his lungs. It feels like he’s standing at the edge of a cliff and he’s asking David to both toss him over and pull him back, unsure of which will actually happen when he finally…

David’s mouth is suddenly on his and he gets his answer. He’s falling, fast. And it’s fucking exhilarating. Pulling from instinct and practice kissing all the wrong people, he does his best to participate, moving his lips along with David’s as he takes in the avalanche of sensations coming at him from finally kissing someone who feels right. David’s fingers touch his neck to pull him closer and Patrick’s sure he’s started trembling from how good it feels. Reaching out, his hand finds the front of David’s sweater and he spreads his fingers over the soft fabric, a small gasp escaping his mouth when his fingertip brushes the bare skin of David’s throat. David must have felt it as he’s pulling back from the kiss, causing Patrick to reflexively grab his sweater to stop him from moving.

“Wait…” 

David’s breath is warm against his face as he chuckles softly and Patrick opens his eyes to see what’s got him so amused.

“That’s a $300 dollar sweatshirt you’re ruining right now.”

Quickly unfurling his fist, Patrick shakes his head and lets out a quick breath from his nose.

“Sorry, I just.” Pausing, he takes a second to gather his thoughts before he blurts out his entire closeted life story in a rush of unfiltered emotion. “I’ve never done this before, with a guy. And it’s kind of a lot, but I don’t want...I don’t want it to be over, yet.”

David’s eyes flash wide for a brief second, but his hand on Patrick’s neck softens and the pads of his fingertips slide a little further into the back of his hair. And god, just that small touch is sending fissures of electricity all the way down Patrick’s spine.

“Okay, I can work with this,” David whispers as he dips his head in close again, pausing to press the tip of his nose against the side of Patrick’s before speaking again. “I’m very generous, I’ll have you know.”

This time when David kisses him, Patrick’s more prepared. Rolling further into him, he lets his head fall to a better angle and grips hard at David’s neck when David sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. There’s a moan threatening to escape his throat at how life-altering this all is, but he holds it in. He’s afraid if he shows what he’s feeling too soon, things will either stop or move too fast and neither option is something he can deal with right now. So he just refocuses on being kissed, and how different David’s lips feel, how strong and confident they push and pull, urging then softening in an obvious test of what Patrick can take. He doesn’t really know the answer to that, but he’s open to finding out. 

Sliding his hand downward, his palm finds David’s cheek and he pulls his lips just out of reach so he can take a few overdue breaths. Before David can think he’s done, he moves his thumb to the crease of David’s mouth and applies a bit of pressure to his bottom lip, opening David’s mouth just enough so when he leans back in he actually breathes in David’s exhale. It distracts him momentarily at how intimate the moment felt, giving David the upper hand to be the one to take the opening and slide the tip of his tongue past Patrick’s tingling lips. Patrick’s maybe a bit too eager for it and he opens his mouth wider, welcoming the deep swipe of David’s tongue with a groan. David’s hand is suddenly gone from the back of Patrick’s head and he wants to protest at the loss of it, but then David’s arm is snaking under his arm and anchoring at his back and their bodies come flush and the last tether Patrick had to his previous life comes unsecured.

David’s body is solid and strong, undeniably male with the flatness of his chest pressed tight against Patrick’s and, oh god, the erection straining against his thigh. It plummets Patrick’s attention back to his own body and the jelly-like feeling of his muscles and unmistakable ache between his own legs. They should stop. This is too much, too soon. But David’s mouth is hot and wet and he feels and tastes like everything Patrick has always wondered and fantasized about and he pushes his fears down for just a while longer. He can take a little bit more.

David somehow knows better.

His mouth is pulled out of reach and Patrick tries to chase it, but David’s hand on his back grabs at his sweater as he lets out a long breath against Patrick’s lips.

“We should stop, Patrick.” 

“I’m okay, we can…”

“Hey, trust me. Too much of me too soon can scramble anyone’s brains.”

David’s humor breaks through Patrick’s hormone laced fog and all he can do is shake his head and bury it in a bit of embarrassment beneath David’s chin. He knows David meant it as a joke, but Patrick’s brains do feel a bit scrambled right now. When David’s arm around his back tightens to pull Patrick in closer, he doesn’t hesitate, greedy to know what it feels like to be held by another man. Not just any man, though. David doesn’t feel like just any man. Far from it.

Silence falls between them for a long moment, the sound of the crackling fire and the wind howling outside the window providing a foreboding, yet soothing soundtrack to Patrick’s jumble of thoughts. Emotions and desire are wrestling with his baked-in careful and calculated nature, somehow making things more and less clear in equal measure. 

“I’m understanding your need for a fresh start a little better, now.”

David’s chest rising and falling against Patrick’s cheek as he speaks churns the butterflies in Patrick’s belly and he closes his eyes to try to get a grip.

“Tell me about it,” he blurts out on a nervous laugh. “I guess I should thank you.”

“As I said, I’m a very generous person.”


	6. Chapter 6

It’s David’s stomach grumbling that breaks the odd little spell that has fallen over them and David finds himself momentarily awkward and fumbling as he disentangles himself and pushes off the bed, mumbling something about sandwiches. Disappearing into the bathroom with his cell phone for some light, he splashes some water on his face and takes stock of his body. His erection has subsided, thank god, but the muscles in his thighs feel pulled tight and his fingertips still tingle from how good Patrick had felt against them. He’s had his fair share of hookups that have left him a bit strung out, but this one, just the kissing, it’s something altogether new. 

Patrick’s nice. Like, genuinely nice. And charming and solid and adorably curious, but not in that way where it feels like he’s seconds away from bolting out into the snow if David touches him wrong or asks too many questions. And it’s...nice. It would have been awesome if someone had told him before now how good nice can feel. Apparently, he’s been looking for all the wrong things.

Feeling a bit less anxious, he leaves the bathroom and goes over to the fridge to retrieve some sandwiches, making sure to close the door quickly so as not to let out too much of the cold air. The row of candles spread out along the counter catch the light from his phone and he grabs the matches beside them and lights them all, walking one into the bathroom and leaving the other two where they are to provide a little illumination to this part of the room, thinking to himself how lucky they are to have ended up in this little romantic hideaway with these extra touches. After grabbing the two water bottles on the vanity, he makes his way back over to Patrick who is sitting with his back against the headboard. The shy smile he gives David has him feeling a bit flushed and he averts his eyes as he climbs up onto the bed. 

They set up their mattress picnic and share a cheers with their water bottles, which causes them both to chuckle, easing the tension by a fraction. Patrick shoves the sleeves of his sweater up over his elbows and David notices a tiny scar running along the tip of his left one.

“How’d you get that?” he asks, pointing to the scar.

Patrick lifts his elbow to give David a better view of it and smiles before launching into a story he’s obviously enjoyed telling before by his wide smile and far away expression as if he’s reliving the moment behind his eyes.

“Slid into home base in a little league game a little too fast. I didn’t even notice it until after my dad hugged me and we saw blood on his pants. It was the first of many sports injuries over the years, but nothing too serious. Drove my mom crazy seeing me hurt, but I think she secretly loved playing nurse. She was still glad when I turned my attention to music, though. Less dangerous.”

“Wow, your family life was really different than mine. I remember my mother running away screaming when I came home with a nosebleed in fifth grade.”

The smile Patrick gives him before taking a bite of his sandwich is amused, not full of pity and David feels a little more at ease. He knows he’s probably making too much of things, but he senses Patrick maybe gets him in ways other people haven’t before, or is willing to at least. 

Over the next hour, he learns a lot about the man sitting next to him on this bed. He learns that he plays guitar and piano and even sings a little, that he went to business school because of his grandfather, his favorite sport is baseball but he’ll watch just about anything on a Sunday on ESPN and he really misses his family. 

“I haven’t talked to them, like a real conversation, in a few weeks. I’m still figuring out exactly all I need to say.”

“That’s fair. It’s always better to have those conversations with yourself first. At least, I’ve heard that’s a good idea anyway.”

Patrick’s eyes are soft when David catches his eye and they share a quiet wordless conversation before Patrick’s eyes fall back to his lap.

“I ran away from a lot of things. A lot of...people.”

People. David has a feeling there might be a specific person wrapped up in that word. Having been the one left in other people’s wake more times than he can count, he can’t help but feel for this nameless person, whoever they may be.

Reaching over, he places a tentative hand on Patrick’s forearm and gives it a light squeeze.

“Don’t beat yourself up too hard, Patrick. People heal. They forgive. They eventually forget. Trust me.”

Patrick doesn’t say anything, but he does nod his head a little before letting out a long sigh. Wanting to shift the mood back to somewhere less fraught with angst, David pulls his hand back and collects the trash from their sandwiches and slides off the bed.

“Okay, there’s a bottle of probably terrible wine over here, so I think we should have a drink and talk about something else.”

He doesn’t look to see if Patrick has agreed, but doesn’t hear a protest either. After unscrewing the wine, he looks around for glasses, but doesn’t see any and silently curses Stevie for her inefficient housekeeping. 

“We’ll have to drink from the bottle. Stevie always forgets to replace the cups.”

Turning, he’s startled to see Patrick a few feet away bending over his suitcase. It’s been a while since David’s seen an ass so fine and he wouldn’t be able to pry his eyes away even if he wanted to. No one should look that good in sweatpants. His focus shifts to the muscles of Patrick’s back, but manages to avert his gaze before Patrick’s turned around with a t-shirt in his hand.

“I’m just gonna change out of this sweater. I always get hot when I drink.”

He wants to tell him that he's already pretty hot, but he holds his tongue.

“Oh. Okay.”

The smile Patrick shoots him as he passes him on his way to the bathroom is overflowing with charm and confidence that David has to grip the wine bottle a bit harder in fear of dropping it. How can someone so new to flirting with men be so fucking good at it?

By the time Patrick emerges from the bathroom, David’s already back on the bed with two good swigs of wine rolling around in his belly. He’s not about to shy away from a little liquid fortification. Especially after he sees Patrick’s biceps bulging beneath the sleeves of his little white undershirt. 

This night might kill him after all.

“Got started without me, I see,” Patrick jokes as he settles himself next to David, closer this time David notices.

In answer, David passes him the bottle and tries not to stare at his throat when he lifts the bottle and takes a long sip. It’s dark outside now and the only light in the room is coming from the fire, but it’s enough to illuminate Patrick’s lips and the red stain the wine leaves behind when he lowers the bottle to his lap. Forcing his gaze away, David tries to tell his body to calm down, but his heart is already speeding up despite his internal protest. 

“So, are you, just into guys or...?”

Ah, this is a topic David is well versed in, so the question doesn’t really phase him anymore.

“I don’t discriminate. If we vibe, we vibe.”

“Ah, got it.”

Turning towards him, David tries to read Patrick’s face to see if he really does get it, but it’s hard to tell. Patrick passes him the bottle of wine back with a smile though, so he doesn’t seem put off or anything.

“What about you? I know kissing men is new, but do you have a sense of…?”

“Oh, I’m gay.” Patrick’s eyes widen as soon as that last word drops from his lips and he looks a little dumbstruck at his own statement.

“First time saying that out loud?”

“Um. Yeah, it is. Wow.”

David takes a swig of the wine, giving Patrick a moment to process this milestone without interruption. His first conversation about his own sexuality happened so long ago that he barely remembers the finer details of it anymore. It’s honestly a little thrilling being here for Patrick’s.

“Okay, I think I need more of that terrible wine.”

Laughing, David passes the bottle back over and Patrick takes a drink. When he looks back over at David, he looks...happy. Like he’s stepped out into the sunlight after a few dreary days of rain. David really wants to kiss him again. But he can’t be the one to make any more moves tonight. Patrick has to lead.

“Feeling good over there?”

Patrick nods and still smiling, closes his eyes and rests his head back against the headboard.

“For the first time in a long time, actually.”

After a minute or two of silence, Patrick opens his eyes again and shuffles a bit so he’s facing David a bit more.

“So, tell me about these local artisans you’ve got lined up. Any favorites?”

Maybe a bit surprised at the turn in conversation topic, David looks at Patrick curiously, but follows his lead. The wine is forgotten on Patrick’s lap as David regales him with stories of the amazing people he’s met, the delicious food he’s eaten and even some of the crazier products he’s seen from some of the more isolated farms he’s visited. There was this one woman who tried to sell him on the idea of earrings made of real rat tails, which had Alexis screaming all the way back into town. 

“Rat tails? That’s just gross.”

“I know. She did have these beautiful wind-chimes she was selling, too, but I was too afraid to ask her what they were made of and we hightailed it out of there.”

“Self preservation at its finest.” 

“Tell me about it,” he sighs. 

Shifting his position a little, his thigh brushes Patrick’s hand and it dawns on him how close they’ve migrated as they’ve been talking. Everything about Patrick is so comfortable and easy and being in his orbit just feels natural, so he hadn’t really noticed. Patrick’s hand lifting from the mattress to rest lightly on his thigh though, that he’s definitely noticing. Lifting his chin, he looks into Patrick’s eyes and has to blink at the intensity he sees looking back at him, but that could just be the firelight playing tricks. But Patrick’s hand moves to curl a bit more purposefully and David lets his lips curl up just enough to let Patrick know that touching him is okay. More than okay.

“Can I kiss you again?”

God, why is that the sexiest thing David has ever heard?

“Yes.”

Patrick doesn’t lean in immediately as David was expecting, instead taking the time to move the wine bottle from his lap onto the floor before settling back in and facing David with a smile. David’s heart is racing in his chest, but he waits, lets Patrick get comfortable, counts his breaths until Patrick’s hand is behind his neck pulling him forward to meet his lips. 

He’s thankful for the familiar taste of wine on Patrick’s tongue grounding him, because everything else about this kiss is completely knocking him off balance. There’s a confidence in Patrick this time around that wasn’t there before, a strength, an urgency wrapped in tenderness when he goes from kissing gently at the corners of his mouth to skillfully sucking on David’s tongue. 

After mentally setting a limit for how far this can go tonight, David finally does something he’s wanted to do for the past hour and gets his hand on that bicep. Sliding his fingers up inside Patrick’s sleeve, he grabs at the muscle and tugs, successfully lifting Patrick’s chin away from their kiss and giving David access to the edge of his jaw. The kisses he drops there start off chaste, but as he moves further along, he starts to add quick swipes of his tongue and tiny nibbles with his teeth. By the time he’s found the soft skin beneath Patrick’s ear, he’s sucking in earnest and Patrick’s panting and clutching hard at the back of his neck.

“Fuck, that feels so...good.”

David smiles against Patrick’s skin, the power of making Patrick feel like this surging in his veins. Dropping a few wet kisses along the skin he’s just abraded, he pulls his head back, welcoming the intensity of Patrick’s mouth when it meets his again, lips tugging and teasing as the breaths they share grow more humid. Patrick pushes to his knees, but keeps his hands framing David’s face, kissing him tenderly as he maneuvers himself over and onto David’s lap. He stops immediately, whispering against David’s lips to ask, “This okay?” David’s only response is to circle his hands around his waist and hold him there as he plunges his tongue deep into his mouth.

He’s so turned on, but he’s not alone, with his erection cradled between Patrick’s perfect ass and Patrick’s trapped in the crowded space between their bellies. If this were anyone else, he’d suggest they do something about their shared situation, but Patrick’s in the lead here. Unless he asks.

Patrick’s hands are active at his waist, and David realizes he’s trying to get under David’s bulky sweatshirt. Smiling into the kiss, he leans his head back, feeling a rush as Patrick, kiss drunk and turned on, lets out a small groan in protest.

“Let me help you get this off.”

“Okay, sorry, I’m…”

Not wanting him to question any of what he’s feeling, David leans back in and kisses him soundly. When he pulls back, he moves his hands up to dig into the muscles of Patrick’s chest over his thin t-shirt.

“You’re so fucking hot right now and I want your hands on me,” he hears himself practically growl, but he can’t be bothered to be embarrassed by it. Not when Patrick’s breath comes out in a quick rush and both of their hands begin to tug his sweatshirt up and over his head. Patrick’s hands are on him immediately, slightly calloused fingers a bit unsure, but definitely interested as they seek out the hair circling his nipples and the soft skin of his collarbone. Feeling a bit on display, David goes to pull Patrick’s shirt up, too.

“This okay?” he asks, making sure to check in the same way Patrick has been, thankful to see a quick nod. When he’s pushed the material up to Patrick’s underarms, he ducks his head down and sucks one of Patrick’s erect nipples between his lips. He’d been teased with them through that damn shirt for the past few hours and he simply can’t help himself from stealing a taste. Patrick’s hands clamp around his head in response and his hips dig down almost painfully, but it’s the good kind of pain and David closes his teeth down over the sensitive nub. 

“David, oh god…” 

Patrick’s fingers in his hair tighten and he feels a light tug, so he releases his hold and lifts his chin, but barely gets to take a breath before Patrick’s mouth is on his and they’re kissing again, teeth clacking as Patrick’s control crests and crashes like a wave into the side of a cliff. David knows he needs to slow things down, both for Patrick, and for himself. He doesn’t want things with Patrick to devolve into a quick fuck. He wants more. And Patrick, well he’s a grown man who probably knows his own limits, but David’s not sure if he’s thinking super clearly about any of that right now. 

Spreading his hands out along Patrick’s back, he slides them slowly up towards Patrick’s shoulders, stopping when his hands have met the t-shirt still bunched up there. Patrick’s kiss slows as David’s hands have stopped moving and soon he’s tilted his head forward, separating their lips enough for them both to take a few breaths. As they both calm down a bit, David nudges Patrick to lift his arms and he does and David pulls his shirt up and over his head. When his hands are free again, he cups Patrick’s cheeks and kisses him, softly this time, both of their lips stuttering when Patrick leans forward and they end up pressed chest to chest.

“Sorry, I’m feeling a little scrambled over here.” David breathes against Patrick’s cheek, quickly burying his face in his neck after voicing that thought out loud.

Patrick curls in somehow tighter, his hands around David’s head as he presses a soft kiss to the side of his neck.

“Me too.”

David pulls back from Patrick’s neck at the same time Patrick does and they both lean in for another kiss, David making sure to keep it slow, hands soothing as they warm the skin of Patrick’s back. 

“We should probably slow down.”

It’s Patrick who says it this time, but he kisses David again right after, and his hips, they have begun to noticeably rock in David’s lap.

The reality of the situation now is that they both really need to come.

Tearing his lips from Patrick’s, he moves his hands to grip his waist to stop him from moving, but somehow manages to pull him forward, causing them both to groan.

“Fuck David, please touch me.”

“That doesn’t sound like slowing down,” he protests, even though that’s exactly what they both want...and need. And Patrick’s hips have canted forward again bringing the thick press of his erection tight against David’s belly, and David’s breath, it goes shallow with desire.

“There’s a lot of other ways we could make each other come right now, David, most I’m really not ready for, but if you don’t get your hands on my cock here soon, the situation’s going to be out of both of our control.”

That’s all David can take.

“Oh fuck, okay, get up.”

Patrick scrambles off his lap and looks at David with confusion as David stands up beside the bed. 

“Hang on,” David orders as he rushes to the bathroom.

Turning on the shower, he silently prays that whatever was powering the water heater has left them with some semblance of warmth. At the first sign of heat, he practically sprints back to the bed and grabs Patrick’s hand, dragging him off the mattress. 

“What is happening right now?”

“We only have one set of sheets. And you’ve never seen the mess two guys can make together.”

Patrick’s hand is still in his when they reach the shower, so David gives it a quick squeeze as he snakes his other hand into the front of his sweatpants to palm his erection through his boxers. He can’t even think about how good Patrick feels against his fingers, not when he’s the only one with functioning brain cells right now.

“Get in the shower, Patrick.”

Patrick’s mouth falls open at David’s touch through his boxers and his body sways forward, but David just smiles and quickly frees both of his hands. He can feel the heat of Patrick’s gaze as he hooks his thumbs into his own waistband and drops his pants to the floor, leaving him in just tight boxer briefs that he knows are leaving nothing to the imagination. When he bends to remove those too, he turns towards the shower instead of Patrick when he stands back up and pushes the curtain back to step inside. 

“You coming?”

He’s barely stepped under the warm stream when Patrick stumbles in next to him, their bodies colliding in the entirely too small space. But Patrick’s determined and is quick to step in closer, his lips hot and active against David’s mouth as he crowds him against the cold tiles. The pulsing pleasure that’s been building between his legs has reached an all encompassing rhythm and David needs to find release, but he can’t hold back from grabbing handfuls of Patrick’s stellar ass. They both moan as their cocks crowd against each other from where they are plastered together and David knows he needs to take control before one of them comes untouched. 

“David...please,” Patrick begs against his lips, his hips canting backwards to give David room to get his hand in between them. It strikes David how in sync they are, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on that, not now. Not when he’s gathering Patrick’s cock and his together in his hand, doing his best to jerk them both at the same time. When Patrick’s hand covers his to help, he actually cries out. Dropping his forehead to Patrick’s, he whispers encouragements as they move their hands in tandem, his hand on Patrick’s cheek slipping against his wet skin until his thumb knocks against Patrick’s teeth. 

David comes the second Patrick opens his mouth and sucks David’s thumb between his lips. 

“You, oh fuck, oh…”

Patrick’s head falls back and he comes, too, his hand dropping from their cocks to grip at David’s forearm as he groans and mumbles something David can’t quite make out. It’s one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced and he’s not ready for it to be over, so he leans in and kisses Patrick’s mouth softly, once, twice, finding Patrick’s lips more than ready for the third pass. They kiss until the water runs cold and they have to scramble to escape it, leaving them dripping and laughing as David reaches for the towels.

It’s then that he notices that there’s only one there. And it’s a hand towel.

“Goddamnit Stevie!”


	7. Chapter 7

Patrick feels as though he’s dropped into someone else’s life. 

Spread out before his eyes is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, naked, muscles and angles dancing in the light from the fire, his skin slightly damp beneath Patrick’s thumb as he traces down the line of hair beneath his navel. He’d been the one who’d led David from the bathroom, somehow finding enough active brain cells to suggest they spread the throw blanket from the couch onto the bed and dry themselves off with the heat of the fire. His knees were a bit wobbly still, but he’d made it to the mattress, confidence he honestly didn’t know he’d possessed keeping a smile on his face as David had, after a few annoyed complaints about being cold, climbed up beside him on the blanket.

Patrick remembers reaching over to push a wet strand of hair off David’s forehead, which had led to this. This quiet exploration. A decades long curiosity being laid bare. As he flattens his hand atop David’s belly, he can feel his body rise and fall with quickening breaths, drawing Patrick’s attention back up to find David’s eyes closed and his mouth slightly parted. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, but then immediately worries he’s said the wrong thing. He’s not used to complimenting men, and maybe…

David’s eyes open and when he meets Patrick’s gaze, he looks, Patrick’s not sure, but he’d venture to say he looks touched.

“Is that an okay thing to say?”

Instead of speaking, David just nods, and smiles, a sweet, soft smile that flips over his already tumbling belly. Fuck, he’s sure he’s never felt this much, ever. And it’s bordering on overwhelming. And that part of him that likes to feel in control, he can feel it slotting back into place. And that’s okay. 

Indulging himself in one more look, he watches his hand as he slides it up over David’s ribs, wondering how long his fingertips will hold the memories of tonight. Will touching anyone else ever match up? When his eyes meet David’s again, he’s lost in his own thoughts, but manages to smile and lean down to meet his lips in a soft kiss. 

“You were right, David.”

David’s eyes crack open and he’s grinning, obviously enjoying hearing that sentiment.

“About what?”

“Too much of you too soon…”

Patrick’s cut off by the sudden poking of David’s finger against his forehead.

“Scrambled brains?”

“Yep.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Finding he’s not alone in feeling all the things, it’s exactly what he needs to hear.

He can feel David’s eyes on him as he pushes off the bed, but he doesn’t look back. There’s this pull deep in his gut telling him if he does, neither of them will be getting their clothes back on tonight. 

After retrieving his sweatpants from the bathroom floor, he gets dressed again and grabs his toiletries so he can brush his teeth. Looking at his reflection in the mirror with the help of the candlelight, he expects to see a changed man, but it’s just himself reflected back at him. Himself, with beard burn on his chin, kiss-swollen lips and a hickey formed from a man’s lips blossoming on his neck. That’s new. And it’s ridiculous and immature, but that doesn’t stop him from tracing the mark with his fingertips as he smiles at this new version of himself. He likes it. The hickey. And the reflection.

David appears behind him as he’s rinsing his toothbrush and Patrick can’t help but be a little relieved to see he’s wrapped himself up in the throw blanket. There’s only so much a man can take. 

“I just need to grab my clothes.”

“It’s okay, I’m all done. I’ll just add more wood to the fire so it doesn’t go out while we sleep.”

It’s a bit dark, so Patrick really can’t make out the full range of David’s facial expressions, but his smile as they pass each other looks a little shy and maybe a bit uncomfortable. But before he can ask him about it, he’s closed the bathroom door. 

* * *

Sharing a bed with someone you don’t know, it’s awkward as fuck. Add in the fact that said person was just naked with you in the shower as you got each other off and somehow awkward doesn’t even begin to describe it. David has absolutely zero idea what to do with himself right now.

“Are you overthinking everything over there, too?”

“No.” David waits a beat before amending his outright lie. “Okay, yes. But that’s a pretty normal thing for me, so I’m not really questioning it.”

The mattress dips as Patrick turns onto his side and David rolls his head on his pillow towards him, wishing for more light than what the fire is providing so he can see his face better. He can make out a smile, but that’s about it.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“I’d really like to get to know you. Spend time with you, outside of this surreal experience we’ve found ourselves in.”

Oh.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, David.”

“I’d like that. But I have to warn you, I’m a bit of an acquired taste.”

David knows how self-deprecating that sounded, but he can’t help himself. He’s been burned by so many people in so many ways that his default is to deflect, give people an out.

So he’s completely unprepared when Patrick scoots closer, his hand cool against the back of his neck as he pulls David in for a kiss. His lips linger, sipping slowly before pulling away with a slight nudge of noses.

“You taste pretty good to me.”

“Are you real?”

Patrick’s laugh is loud in the quiet room as he falls back onto his own pillow and it’s like a balm applied directly to David’s bruised and battered heart. 

“I’ve been wondering the exact same thing about you, David.”

“Oh, I’m not. I’m a complete figment of your imagination,” he jokes, feeling a good knot of his built up anxiety unravel at the ease that just somehow seems to exist between them.

“Good to know.”

When silence falls between them again, it’s noticeably less awkward and David feels himself begin to relax. He focuses on the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth at their feet, shivering on impulse, not an actual chill, when a gust of wind rattles the old windows. The heavy quilt they’re huddled under is actually pretty cozy, as is the knowledge that for the first time in, well, as long as he can remember, he’s not in bed alone. He’s never had a nice man, or woman for that matter, want to spend the night with him before. And yeah, it’s not like they really have a choice here, but it’s obvious that Patrick wants to be here, too. And that’s new. And scary. But David’s learned over these past couple of years in Schitt’s Creek, that scary doesn’t necessarily mean bad. 

Patrick shuffles next to him and he’s pretty sure he feels the warmth of his breath caressing the side of his neck, but he might be imagining that. 

“Goodnight David,” Patrick whispers.

“Night Patrick.”


	8. Chapter 8

David doesn’t remember falling asleep, but a sound from outside, probably just a strong gust of wind, wakes him from a surprisingly deep slumber. He’s groggy and disoriented, but warm, very warm, and it takes him a few seconds to realize why. Patrick is no longer on his side of the bed. 

There’s a solid chest pressed tight against his back and a strong arm tucked in tight around his waist, all belonging to Patrick, who’s fast asleep and snoring right behind David’s head...on David’s pillow. It’s so foreign to David to wake up being held that he doesn’t know what to do, but more than anything, he doesn’t want it to stop. So he takes a few long, steadying breaths and does a variety of mental gymnastics telling his body to relax. After a few minutes, he does, or he does enough that he’s sure he’s not going to have an anxiety attack. Closing his eyes again, he focuses on Patrick’s fingers, on how they are splayed out wide over his belly as if he was trying to touch as much of David as possible. He wonders if Patrick even knows he’s done this, or if it was an unconscious act done during sleep, routine built from some past relationship where he’s had someone sharing his bed? Or if he woke up and wanted to touch? Why do both options scare David to his core?

“Sorry, is this okay?” David hears from behind him, startling him enough to make him flinch.

Patrick’s voice is garbled from sleep, and there’s a tentativeness there and David, tentative himself, somehow finds his own voice to respond.

“Yes.”

It’s true, and it’s not, but he’s going to fight that part making him question it with everything he has. Lifting his arm, he slides it underneath the quilt and finds Patrick’s hand, slowly weaving his fingers between Patrick’s to keep him from pulling away. Soft lips press into the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine all the way to his toes. And he’s sure a tiny part of him falls in love with Patrick in this moment, which is stupid, but his heart is really bad at learning lessons.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part III - the course of true love never did run smooth...

He’s shaking snow off his jacket by the door when he sees David’s head pop up over the bed frame, hair in adorable disarray and looking more than a little confused.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

“Not sure, 9:30 or so? I’ve been up since 5, couldn’t sleep.”

Also, after waking up still folded up against David’s back, very turned on, he had to escape that bed to save his sanity. After spending some time alone time in the bathroom, he found himself back on the couch, flipping through David’s plans for the lodge in an attempt to think about something other than how much he wanted to crawl back into that bed and wake David up.

“Well, I don’t function too well before 10am, so I’m gonna need some coffee, and, wait, were you outside?”

“Oh, yeah, I found a snow shovel on the side of the bungalow and cleared the path up to the main lodge. I had a lot of nervous energy, and some things to...you know, think about…”

David’s face turns a bit sour and Patrick registers how that probably sounded and fumbles to quickly make amends.

“All good thoughts, I promise you.”

“So, no regrets then?” Patrick watches as David turns his head away and he wonders at his question, immediately feeling a bit of anger swell at whoever must have hurt David to have him ask something like that.

“No,” he answers honestly, waiting for David to look at him again before making himself perfectly clear. “No regrets.” 

He might be going through the entire timeline of his life, questioning every interaction, decision, road not traveled, but not anything that happened last night. The only question he has about all of this is how soon it can all happen again.

“Okay, good. Um, I should probably get up and get dressed. I don’t normally let people see me before 9 am and I’m mortified at what you might be witnessing here.” 

He’s stepped out of the bed and is motioning up and down in front of himself and Patrick’s so charmed all he can do is shake his head and smile. And try to ignore the new flutter of butterflies swarming in his belly at seeing David standing there, all un-coiffed and rumpled.

“You shouldn’t be.”

Openly flirting with a man, it’s a new thing, but wow does it feel right.

David’s face does this thing, where it looks like he’s trying his best not to smile, but only manages to crinkle his nose and scrunch up one side of his mouth and Patrick has to rock back on his heels to stop himself from crossing over and kissing him senseless. Sharing this small space is going to be a monumental test of his patience and resolve to take things slow.

David eventually composes himself and tosses his response over his shoulder as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“Flattery will get you everywhere. But not as far as a good pastry, like a cinnamon roll.”

“Noted.”

As David closes the bathroom door, Patrick wishes he’d checked that refrigerator while he was over in the main lodge this morning for pastries.

While he waits for David to finish getting dressed, he makes the bed and stokes the fire, adding two fresh logs that crackle and hiss as the moisture in the wood meets the flame. His cell phone by the bed vibrates and he heaves a heavy sigh, knowing he’s waited long enough, longer than he should, to check his messages.

There’s two voicemails from his mom, and texts from his dad and Rachel, all just wanting to make sure he’s okay after seeing news of the storm. His heart clenches with dueling emotions, love at being worried about and anxiety at knowing he needs to respond. It’s not fair to leave them hanging, even if answering means an opening of communication he won’t be able to close.

Typing off a text to his mom and dad, he lets them know that he’s okay, but that the storm was pretty bad. He promises to give them a call in a few days. He knows they’d rather hear from him now, but he’s doing the best that he can.

Responding to Rachel is harder. Her “Are you okay?” text, it’s a perfect opener for a long overdue conversation, but he doesn’t quite have the words formulated to know how to begin. So, he just sits on the edge of the bed, thumb hovering over the keyboard, not wanting her to see the three little dots of an incoming text that might never come.

“Thanks for grabbing towels.”

Patrick almost drops his phone at the sound of David’s voice, but manages to gather his wits and place it face down beside the bed without breaking the glass.

“Oh, sure, I wanted to see if the power was back on over there, which it isn’t. But the snow has stopped, so at least that’s progress.”

He’ll answer Rachel later. When he figures out what the hell he’s supposed to say.

“I can’t believe I’m going to drink this.”

David appears to be speaking to himself, but Patrick’s need to be back in his orbit is strong and he does his best to leave his internal struggle on the nightstand as he walks over to see what he’s up to. His smile returns when he spies David, clad in a crisp white undershirt with deep fold marks creased down the back and the same drawstring pants from last night, tapping his ring-laden fingers on the plastic lid of the cheap coffee maker on the counter. It’s one of those you only use when desperate, with the pre-filled pouches that make one cup at a time. The coffee produced never gets darker than dirty bathwater, and the powdered creamer just adds insult to injury.

“The things we do for caffeine.”

“That’s a very long, sordid list that I’d rather not get into.”

Laughing, Patrick moves to stand next to David, venturing a quick slide of his hand across the small of David’s back to see how his touch is received. David’s head turns and there’s a smile there, so he chalks that up as approval. 

“Peanut butter and jelly sound good for breakfast?” he asks, noticing that his fingers are trembling a bit as he goes to open the small refrigerator. He can’t seem to help the way his body responds to David Rose, like a magnet finally flipped to the correct side, unable to stop the pull in the right direction.

“Good? No. Edible. Yes.”

“There’s always tuna salad if you’d prefer?” 

“There will be no more kissing if either of us have tuna salad.”

Patrick’s head snaps up and the pb&j in his hand maybe gets a little squished and his heart, it’s beating so fast he’s sure David can hear it. Standing, he digs deep into his well of confidence and leans his hip, as nonchalantly as he can muster, against the counter.

“Oh, so you want there to be more kissing, then?”

David doesn’t respond right away, but Patrick can see his mouth turn up into a smile as he stirs his coffee with the tiny wooden stirrer that came in the plastic package. A bear could come crashing through the door of this bungalow at this very moment and Patrick’s sure he’d still not find the willpower to look away from David’s mouth right now. And when David lifts the paper cup to his lips and blows air across the top of the hot liquid, Patrick has to remind himself to breathe.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” David finally responds, but instead of looking at Patrick, he takes a slow sip from the steaming cup. “After coffee.”

_ Okay. _

As David leaves Patrick standing there, dumbstruck and more than a little turned on, he can’t be sure if he said that word out loud.


	10. Chapter 10

Peanut butter and jelly might be David’s new favorite thing. But then again, he’s never tasted it on another person’s tongue until now and he’s finding it to be quite the pleasurable experience. All attempts at small talk during breakfast had pretty quickly transitioned to long, meaningful stares, Patrick’s focus never venturing far from David’s lips. And David, not one to usually enjoy being watched while eating, found himself playfully swiping non-existent jelly from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 

That’s how he’s found himself here, with Patrick’s strong fingers clutching at the back of his neck and his mouth happily occupied in a rather ravenous kiss. 

“You were done with your coffee, right,” Patrick mumbles against his mouth, tugging gently at David’s bottom lip with his teeth before plunging his tongue back inside. David manages a grunt of agreement before he’s grabbing for more of Patrick, one hand gripping the front of his, what is this, a button up shirt? They can deal with that later. 

They’d already been angling towards each other on the couch, but it still takes a bit of maneuvering before Patrick’s where David wants him, his sturdy weight pushing David down deeper into the cushions with their legs just as tangled as their tongues. Patrick’s lips slide from his mouth and venture to the side of David’s neck and the heat of Patrick’s breath against his skin and the pressure of his fingertips on his hip are making everything feel a little hazy and a lot fantastic. Patrick might not have much practice doing this with another man, but thankfully, making out is just about feeling good and in that regard, he really knows what he’s doing. 

Patrick’s hand at his hip slides up and David lets out a soft gasp as warm fingers meet his bare skin beneath his shirt, his neck bowing further as the scruff on Patrick’s chin scrapes deliciously along his collarbone. It’s like everywhere this man touches him little fires are being lit, warming him almost to the point of feverish, but he wants more and drags Patrick’s head up with his hands so he can find his mouth for another kiss. Short fingernails scratch against his skin as Patrick’s hand scrambles further up inside David’s shirt until the pad of his thumb brushes against David’s nipple, causing David’s breath to stutter and Patrick to smile against his lips. It feels so good, as Patrick’s obviously aware, as he’s pulled back his head to watch as David’s face conveys all the pleasure his thumbnail is drawing from David’s sensitive skin.

“You like that?” he teases, earning himself an eye roll even as David is tempted to beg him to please not stop.

He doesn’t, thank god. Not until David lifts his leg, prompting a rousing round of slow shifting and hands grabbing at thighs until they are dry humping in earnest, Patrick breathing straight into David’s open mouth as his hips pump between David’s open legs. It’s friction and impulse and David should probably do something…

“Can I touch you?” Patrick pants against David’s lips, kissing David again before he has a chance to answer. Wanting that more than anything, he reaches down and places his hand atop Patrick’s on his thigh and directs it between them, nearly biting Patrick’s tongue when he feels desperate fingers grab at his erection over his pants. He has to pull his mouth away when Patrick starts to knead the length of his cock with his palm. 

“Fuck, I’m too close for you to do that. Get in my pants.”

Patrick chuckles, which for some reason, just turns David on more.

“Gladly.”

The smile Patrick presses against David’s cheek is sweet and full of humor, but David only has a second or two to dwell on that as Patrick angles himself further into the back of the couch and trembling fingers are dragging David’s pants and boxer briefs down to free his erection. He should feel exposed and vulnerable watching Patrick’s eyes move down his body, his gaze firmly locking on his hand as it takes hold of David’s cock, but he doesn’t. Seeing how Patrick’s breath has gone shallow and his mouth has fallen open, it’s like he’s witnessing the revelation of a secret Patrick’s finally set free. There’s also the fact that Patrick’s hand is a revelation of its own, moving with curious determination, his thumb seeking out the precum leaking from David’s tip. Keeping his eyes open is impossible now, when he’s this close, with commands like “come for me” and “now” breathing from Patrick’s mouth against his cheek. 

He doesn’t have time to fully process that Patrick gets off on being a little bossy, because he’s doing as he’s been told and he’s coming, and Patrick’s kissing him again. They kiss until Patrick goes to pull David closer and they both register some clean up is necessary before things can continue. His cheeks heat with sudden embarrassment as Patrick pushes himself up to grab for a towel, leaving David alone to reflect on what’s just happened now that the fog of the moment has started to clear. He’s not ashamed or anything, just aware, which makes him feel vulnerable. When Patrick returns with the hand towel from the bathroom, David sees his erection straining against the zipper of his jeans and David is reminded that this moment, it's not quite over yet. 

Needing to take a little bit of the control back, he grabs Patrick’s wrist as soon as he’s done a quick clean-up of David’s belly with the slightly damp towel.

“Need some help with that?”

“I think I got it…” Patrick’s answer dies on his lips when he looks down and sees where David’s attention is focused. But then he’s laughing again. “Really? Do I need some help with that?”

Shaking his head in frustrated amusement, David reaches down to rearrange his pants and pushes himself up to a sitting position. 

“Okay, fine, maybe that was a little porny, but you really didn’t give me a chance to drink my coffee and I’m not at my best before noon.”

Patrick’s hands coming to rest on David’s shoulders draws his head up, relieved at the smile he sees and the burnished color painting Patrick’s cheeks. He’s into this, this banter during sex, just as much as David’s finding himself to be.

“I look forward to seeing you at your best.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

To punctuate his question, he lifts his hand and runs the edge of his knuckle down the zipper of Patrick’s jeans.

“I think I’m up for the challenge.”

“Looks who’s sounding porny now,” he laughs, keeping his eyes on Patrick as he moves his hand to the top button of Patrick’s jeans, watching as his expression changes from amused to aware. His bottom lip drops and David can hear him exhale a heavy breath just as he moves one of his hands from David’s shoulder to cup the back of his neck. David’s own breathing goes a bit ragged as he gets the button open and moves to lower the zipper, thanks to Patrick’s fingers sliding up into the back of his hair, an obvious silent urge for David to continue. So he does.

Moving his hands to the bottom of Patrick’s shirt, he works the bottom button open so he can part the fabric and leans in to press a soft kiss to the skin he’s revealed. Patrick’s fingers clench against his scalp and his hips rock forward, bumping his boxer covered erection against David’s chin. David hears a soft gasp at the contact, so he gives him more, quickly lowering his mouth until he’s running his lips over the constrained ridge of Patrick’s cock. 

“David…”

Tilting his chin back, he looks up to catch Patrick’s eyes, needing to make sure this isn’t too far too soon.

“Is this...?”

“Yes,” Patrick interrupts, voice ragged as he adds, ”if you...want to?”

Instead of answering with words, he leans back in and licks a stripe right above the waistband of Patrick’s boxers. 

“Oh fuck.”

Patrick’s unfettered reaction has power surging in David’s veins and he takes full advantage, quickly dragging his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs so he can nip playfully at the newly exposed hipbone nearest his mouth. Patrick sways again on his heels and David uses this as an excuse to grab at his ass, holding him still as he turns his head and gathers the tip of Patrick’s cock between his lips. It’s been a long time since he’s had a cock in his mouth, but he can tell by how its swelling against his tongue that Patrick doesn’t have long before his release. So he does his damndest to make the most of the time he has.

He takes him in as far as he can stand and slides his mouth back slowly, reveling in Patrick’s groans and how his fingers have slid higher, gripping hard at David’s hair as his hips begin to rock towards David’s mouth. David welcomes the unconscious movement, dropping his jaw open a bit further so he can work his tongue along the underside as Patrick slides his own cock in and out. When he’s ready to take control back, he moves one hand to Patrick’s hip to still him as he wraps his other hand around the base of his cock, squeezing lightly as precum washes over his tongue. The tiny taste of Patrick makes him greedy and impatient and he starts sucking in earnest, using his hand in tandem until Patrick’s mumbling warnings of “I’m gonna come” make it past the pounding of David’s heart between his ears. He pulls back just as Patrick’s coming into his hand, his desire to really taste Patrick being overruled by his more sensible warnings of unprotected sex and unknown partners. Looking up, he sees Patrick’s eyes are closed and he’s adorably flushed from his cheeks down his neck and David feels a pang of longing for experiences yet to come. For moments shared with openness and trust. 

He wants more time with this man. More than he’s wanted with anyone, ever before. 

He just needs to stop himself from fucking it all up.


	11. Chapter 11

“And this is the laundry room, but as we discussed, I plan to suggest we add two more machines and make them coin operated so guests can have access.”

“You might want to also think about investing in a change machine. Or at least make sure you have a good supply of quarters at the front desk.”

Patrick angles the flashlight a little when he sees David nod and go to write this suggestion in his journal. He’s been jotting down a lot of what Patrick has said as they’ve walked through the empty lodge and it’s honestly made Patrick feel more needed that he has in ages. It’s exhilarating, not in the same ways their more private activities have been, but in ways Patrick understands better. And it’s a good counterbalance to the other stuff. Which is good, too. Very good.

“Okay, we’re done here.”

David’s brushing past him in the doorway with almost flippant efficiency and Patrick’s once again inexplicably charmed. Why does he enjoy David’s bristles as much as his softness?

“Holy fuck, where did you come from?”

Startled by both the profanity and the heightened octave of David’s voice, Patrick quickly catches up to him around the corner and is surprised, and more than a little disappointed, to see that they are no longer alone.

“Nice to see you, too, David.”

A sweep of dark hair escapes the red hat the woman whose appeared has pulled off her head and Patrick instinctively knows this must be Stevie. She’s pretty, in that girl next door that could kick your ass if she could only conjure up the will to do so kind of way.

“Sorry, you just startled me. I didn’t think the road would be cleared this quickly.”

Patrick doesn’t think he’s imagining a tinge of disappointment in David’s voice, but there’s a good chance he might be projecting. 

“Uh, you wanna introduce me to our guest?”

David’s head whips around almost as if he’s startled at Patrick’s presence, which draws an amused chuckle from Patrick as he steps forward to introduce himself.

“I’m Patrick, Stevie I’m assuming?”

Stevie’s gaze lingers on him for a brief moment before turning to David with a million questions evident on her face.

“Uh, yeah. What have you said about me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” David quips at the same time as Patrick says “All good things.”

Stevie just looks back and forth between them with furrowed eyebrows before shrugging and tossing her coat on the counter next to her hat.

“Whatever, I’m just glad he wasn’t here alone. I’m sure he would have died or something worse.”

“What’s worse than dying?” Patrick asks, amused and honestly curious to hear her response.

“Me having to hear how he  _ almost _ died, every day, ad nauseum.”

“Ah, I can see how that would probably be a bigger burden,” he agrees, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes make their way back to David to witness the inevitable.

“Now that you two are apparently best friends set out to torture me, can we talk about something else? When’s the power supposed to be back on?”

Stevie’s lip curls up in a sly smile before she wanders to the far end of the counter, grabbing a pen from the cup near the phone and popping off the cap. She grabs her hair up and twirls it into a messy bun, securing it with the pen before answering David’s question about the power.

“Should be on any minute now. The lights leading into the parking lot were back on when I pulled in, so…”

Almost as if she’s magically conjured it, the overhead light flickers and the ancient computer by her elbow begins to boot up. 

“I always knew you were a witch,” David mutters, obviously a bit awed at her timing, but still a little bit annoyed.

There’s a tinge of annoyance prickling at Patrick, too, not at Stevie, but at the definitive popping of the private bubble he’s been occupying with David. It couldn’t last forever he supposes, as nice as it all was.

“Is there anything I can help with?” he asks, honestly needing something else to focus on.

David swivels to face him and they share a look that causes Patrick’s cheek to flush with heat, but he just smiles and shoves his hands into the pocket of his jeans. Damn, this man can really knock him off balance.

“Do you mind tossing whatever sandwiches we didn’t grab from the fridge in the back? Some of them have probably gone bad.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

As he passes David, he pulls his hand back out of his pocket so he can give David’s arm a light squeeze and tries to ignore how Stevie’s gaze tracks his every step as he disappears into the back room.

Hearing “Okay, tell me everything” whispered through the thin walls has him snorting to himself and wishing he could hear how David would describe “everything” that has transpired. How would he describe it to someone?

As he sits on the floor in front of the refrigerator and drags a trash can beside him, he thinks about it. If he was to describe the past 24 or so hours to say, his parents, what would he say?

_ Hey, Mom and Dad. I met a guy who might be the strangest, most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and there’s a good chance I’m in the early stages of falling in love with him. Oh, and I’m gay. Probably should have led with that. _

Huffing quietly, he opens the refrigerator and grabs what looks like an egg salad sandwich and tosses it in the trash as he silently chastises himself for the situation he’s boxed himself into. He’s finally met someone who has a good chance of making him truly happy and he can’t talk about it with the two people most important to him in the world. Or he could, if he would just stop being a damn coward. He knows he’s not being fair to himself, but that’s something he’s grown used to.

A few more sandwiches of indeterminate ingredients end up in the bin before his fingers land on a peanut butter and jelly. There’s no need to toss this one as it’s not perishable and honestly, he likes the idea of maybe sharing it with David, maybe again tomorrow morning. Realizing his thoughts have ventured back into private bubble territory, he shakes off the fantasy and puts the sandwich back in the fridge and closes the door. 

He’s just pushed himself back to his feet when he hears a shuffle and turns to see David smiling at him from the doorway.

“Hi.”

There’s a soft, almost shy lilt to David’s voice that makes Patrick feel a bit more centered. Whatever’s happened between them, it’s still happening.

“Hi.”

As Patrick draws closer to him, David’s smile goes a bit crooked and the air between them feels heavy, a disorienting contrast to the lightness in his chest. Patrick’s sure at some point he told his brain what to do next, but there’s also an inevitability to it that he just let lead. The sweater David had changed into when they popped by his room earlier is soft and fuzzy against the back of his wrists as he winds his arms around his waist, the scruff below his bottom lip a bit scratchy as Patrick leans in for a lingering kiss.

Neither of them say anything when they pull their heads back, but Patrick doesn’t let go of David’s waist and David’s hands on his arms don’t move either. They’re just smiling at one another, a bit goofily, when Stevie’s voice breaks the spell.

“Uh, Patrick, there’s a message for you on our voicemail.”


	12. Chapter 12

_ “Hi. Um, I’m hoping to reach a guest. His name is Patrick Brewer. I’m his fiancee, sorry, no, not anymore, nevermind, that’s not important...I’ve been trying to call him but he’s not answering his cell. I know he was supposed to be at your lodge this weekend and I heard about the storm and I’m...um, worried. So if you could please give him this message and ask him to call me I’d appreciate it. Thank you. Oh, my name is Rachel.” _

David feels like he’s stepped into a wind tunnel the noise in his head is so loud. He’s nauseous, confused and angry. Irrationally so. 

“You have a fiancee?”

It’s Stevie who asks the question, saving David the fortitude he doesn’t have to formulate words.

“No, no, not anymore. It’s a long story,” he hears Patrick attempt to explain, but David’s not in the frame of mind to take anything in. He doesn’t really know this man and shouldn’t be this upset, but he is. His biggest insecurity has just been poked, hard, and it’s more painful than he’s prepared for.

“I’m going upstairs,” he says, voice stiff and emotionless, leaving Patrick staring after him as he takes the stairs up to his room. He needs some privacy so he can fall apart.

The door is only shut for a few seconds before Patrick is pushing his way in, eyes wide and hand clutching the back of his neck.

“David, I should explain.”

“Honestly, Patrick, you don’t owe me anything here. We just met.”

He doesn’t want those words to be true, but hearing himself say them out loud, it hits him just how much they are. This encounter, it’s been just another in David’s long list of one-night stands he’d hoped would end up being more, but never are.

“It feels important to me that I do, David. Even if I don’t really know what to say, I don’t want this thing between us, whatever it is, I don’t want it to be over.”

David takes a deep, steadying breath. It’s an internal struggle to not just disappear behind the walls he’s constructed from countless disappointments, but Patrick opened up a crack that he can’t quite seem to close. And all the hurt, pain brought on by other people, it begins to seep out of him unchecked.

“I’m Rachel, Patrick. I’m the person who’s always left leaving messages, constantly checking for texts, wondering why the person I thought I loved doesn’t love me back.”

“Oh god, David, that’s not what…”

Shaking his head, he barrels on, too full of steam to be open to hearing Patrick’s attempt to explain.

“I’ve been burned so many times that I'm basically the human equivalent of the inside of a roasted marshmallow, and maybe, for a second there, I thought things,” he rambles as he gestures somewhat wildly between them, “might be different, but honestly, I don’t really know you. And I’ve got a lot going on here at the lodge, with the business and everything...so whatever personal drama you’re dealing with, I don’t have the time or energy to be a part of it. Not right now.”

Fuck, he’s going to be sick. Because there’s a lot of truth in all of that. But he doesn’t want it to be. Not this time.

“Can I say one thing?”

It takes everything he has to meet Patrick’s eyes and he immediately wishes he hadn’t. Patrick’s looking at him like with naked desperation and it’s entirely too much and very, very confusing.

“Okay.”

“Rachel and I, we’re long overdue for a very tough conversation that I’ve been avoiding, and for that, I take full responsibility. I’m ashamed of the ways I’ve hurt her. And I’m still processing a lot of things about myself and the life I want to live, but after meeting you, there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of. I want you to be a part of it, my life I mean. So, if you want to talk about all of this, I’ll be here. Whenever you’re ready.”

He’s not.

“Okay.”

He can hear Patrick drag in a ragged breath and there’s a part of him that wants to reach out, grab his hand and tell him that they’ll find a way through this, but he doesn’t have that kind of optimism. 

“I’ll leave my number with Stevie. Please call me, David.”

The little triangle pattern on the worn carpet starts to blur behind unshed tears, but he doesn’t look up and after a long beat, Patrick leaves the room. The moment he knows he’s alone, his knees buckle and he has to stagger backwards to make sure he lands on the bed, collapsing his head into his hands the moment he hits the mattress. 

This shouldn’t hurt like this. It’s too new. He feels like he’s going crazy. Hot tears are weaving between his knuckles and he chastises himself for them, not understanding why this feels so different, why his armor wasn’t there to protect him.

At some point, Stevie appears and crowds in next to him on the bed and she does her best to give him comfort, her small hand pressing tentative circles on his back as she rests her head on his downturned shoulder.

“He seemed like such a nice guy,” he hears her say and it’s like she’s found the magic key.

Nice. That’s it. David’s mind goes back to his thoughts from the previous day, and night, when he’d registered for himself how nice Patrick is and how different he seemed from everyone he’s ever been interested in before. That’s why this feels so...bad. There was a part of him that had started to think that he could have something nice. For once.

“He is,” he whispers, knowing Stevie would go to the mat for him right now and tear Patrick to shreds, but that’s not what he needs. 

“Then why?”

He just shakes his head and he can tell that Stevie is staring at him with how her chin is now digging into his shoulder, but he can’t meet her eye.

“Okay. We’ll talk later.”

There’s no question there and David knows he’ll be forced to have a real conversation with her, which is annoying, but also...comforting. He’s never had a Stevie before, someone who cares about how he’s feeling, someone who’ll actually listen. Even now, when he knows he’s being irrationally hard on himself, he has to admit that he’s loved and maybe...maybe he’s actually worthy of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you how appreciative I am of your feedback to this story so far. Thank you! One more part to come after this one, so hang in there. A little bit of angst was inevitable, right?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part IV - the happy ending.

“What goes on line 7b again?”

“The total from the appraisal. You have that, right?”

“Yeah, it’s uh...here somewhere...got it. Okay, give me a second.”

He can hear Stevie’s fingers punching the keyboard through the phone and he remembers that he was going to check with his friend Tim about getting them a discount on a new computer. That desktop looked almost as old as the lodge itself.

“I think that’s it. So, I just hit send?”

“Yes, hit send and we, I mean, you wait. You should hear something in about a week or so. But I’m pretty positive your loan will be approved. David’s plans for the refurbish are good ones and with all of the artisans writing references, you guys are a good investment.”

“God Patrick, I can’t thank you enough for this. For all of your help. I know David would be, too, if you’d only let me tell him.”

There’s a huge part of him that wants to scream _“YES!”_ into the phone, but he can’t. He needs to give David the time and space he’s asked for. 

“He hasn’t called me, Stevie. I have to wait.”

“You might be waiting forever. He’s a stubborn little shit sometimes.”

Patrick chuckles and shakes his head, looking up when he sees Ray pass by him with an armful of real estate signs and his camera bag perched between his teeth. He waves and Ray makes an attempt to wave back, almost dropping everything before he’s shrugging in that jovial way he does as he maneuvers his way out the door.

“I think he’s worth it, Stevie.”

“I know he is. But that’s not your problem. He doesn’t think he is.”

Patrick’s heart clenches painfully at her words and he wishes he had a good solution here, but he doesn’t. All he can do is what he’s been doing these past three weeks, helping, covertly, as much as he can through Stevie. And hoping that David will eventually ask her for his number.

“Do you think he suspects anything?” he asks, half wanting her to say yes and half not.

“I don’t think so, but he did look at me a bit strangely last week when I accidentally mentioned tax liability. But I brushed it off, claiming Alexis had left one of her textbooks on the desk and I had gotten bored.”

“Isn’t Alexis majoring in public relations?”

“Yeah, but David seemed to believe me, so I’m pretty sure I dodged that bullet.”

A light tap on the front door startles him and he wonders if maybe Ray’s hands are still too full and he can’t get to the door handle. 

“I’ve gotta run, Stevie. Someone’s at the door. Call me if you need help with anything else.”

“Will do. And thank you, Patrick.”

“You’re welcome.”

He’s smiling to himself as he turns the knob on the front door and pulls it open, but freezes when he sees who is standing on the front porch.

“David?”

His heart has plummeted to his stomach and it’s beating fast, and he’s pretty sure he’s stopped breathing while he waits for David to…

Smile. He’s smiling. And Patrick feels lightheaded at the sight of it.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, yes...come in,” he rambles, shuffling backwards to give David room to step inside, the spicy scent of his cologne making Patrick’s head spin even faster. He wasn’t prepared to see him and he’s pretty damn sure David can tell how knocked off balance he is. But he honestly doesn’t care. He wants this too much.

Shutting the door, he quickly turns the sign on the window to CLOSED while David’s back is still to him, not wanting some random townsperson to wander in and interrupt whatever this is. David’s walking further into the room, but stops right at Patrick’s chair where he places his hands briefly before turning around.

“I’m here to pick something up,” he finally says, still smiling, but in that crooked way where Patrick can tell he’s trying not to, but can’t will it away.

“Okay,” he responds, quickly moving further into the room to get closer, but shoving his hands into his pockets to stop himself from doing all the things he really wants to do. Like grab his stupidly perfect face and kiss him until they are both breathless. Yeah, he can’t do something like that.

“See, I got this notice in the mail from Ray that my historical property designation was ready for pickup and I knew that I hadn’t requested anything, but there’s this nice guy that I met who told me that doing so would be a really good idea. So, I figured, maybe you filled out my paperwork? Kinda like how you’ve been helping Stevie?”

Patrick’s mind is spinning trying to catch up. Ray sent him a notice? He knows about everything? He’s so off balance that all he can do is speak his truth.

“I wanted to help you, David. And I know you weren’t going to ask for it, and I probably overstepped, but I needed you to know that I care. About you.”

David’s jaw drops slightly before he manages to recover his features, but when he does, his eyes have softened and he looks a little unsure.

“Why?”

Oh.

It feels right to take a few steps, like he’s where he’s supposed to be when he’s close enough to feel the heat of David’s body warm their shared space.

“Because you’re smart, and funny, and gorgeous and infuriating and I’ve never felt more myself than during the hours I got to spend with you. And I've spent every minute of the past three weeks hoping and waiting for you to reach out, because I want...no, I need to see where this thing between us can go.”

David sways forward a bit and Patrick’s breath gets caught in his throat as he waits to see what’s going to happen next. His heart is just out there, balancing precariously on his sleeve.

“You know, relationships that start under intense circumstances, they never last.” 

The look on David’s face can only be described as amused, so Patrick lets out the breath he’d been holding, thankful to realize he’s being baited into participating in some flirtatious banter.

“Says who?”

“Sandy Bullock in Speed.”

“Never seen it.”

David’s hands are suddenly on Patrick’s arms, squeezing his muscles through his thin blue oxford. And Patrick feels his world finally tilt back on its axis. 

“Patrick, that’s a travesty. And honestly, if you’d seen it when it came out, I’m pretty sure Keanu would have awakened those gay feelings a lot earlier.”

As David’s been rambling, Patrick’s pulled his hands free from their denim confines and has taken that blissful final step forward. He can feel David’s breath against his face as he curls his hand around his neck and pulls him close and all the nights he’d stayed awake hoping for another chance, fantasizing about how it might play out, none of them compare to how good it feels to actually have David’s lips back within reach.

“Noted,” he whispers, quickly taking David’s mouth in a kiss before he can speak again. He tastes of cinnamon and coffee and possibility, which seems a bit fantastical, but that’s just what being with David feels like. Things he never dreamed of for himself feel possible, real happiness doesn’t seem so out of reach. And the way David is kissing him back, his lips open and urging, Patrick can’t help but hope that he’s ready to take a big leap, together.


	14. Chapter 14

He registers the gaudy floral wallpaper behind his knuckles as his head tips back, along with the brass headboard he’s clinging to, but any quips he might normally make about the decor are eclipsed by fog of pleasure from Patrick’s mouth on his neck and his hand moving with desperate efficiently between his legs. 

Patrick’s teeth draw the lobe of his ear into his mouth and it’s like a tidal wave, his orgasm breaking without warning as his knuckles crack around the brass. He’s desperately tugging at the back of Patrick’s head with his free hand until he feels his mouth on his again, kissing him sloppily through heaving breaths and incoherent rambling. But Patrick somehow understands, answering with “yes” and “so good” against David’s lips until they’re kissing in earnest, bodies warm and spent pressing closer as if every touch can somehow make up for time lost.

The conversation they’d had downstairs, it’s the first of many they need to have, but they needed this, too. This connection built of touch and taste and learning through sound and movement, it’s a language David understands and he wants to understand Patrick, wants to figure out all the little things that make him who he is. 

“Ray will be back soon,” Patrick mumbles against his lips, causing David to groan with annoyance. But it’s too early in this relationship, oh god... _ he’s in a relationship _ , to be caught fooling around by Ray. The whole town would know about it by the end of day.

A while and a few kisses later, after cleaning up and reluctantly finding their way back into their clothes, Patrick leads him back downstairs with their fingers tangled between them. David gives his hand a tug when they reach the bottom, smiling into the enthusiastic kiss Patrick doesn’t hesitate to pull him into.

“Oh, hello David!”

Fuck. 

Patrick has whipped around, but his hand is still on David’s back, which despite the mortification at being caught in an embrace, makes him feel some kind of way.

“Hi Ray,” he manages to squeak out.

“I take it you received the notice I dropped in the mail. Patrick here was going to let them mail the certification directly to the lodge, but you two needed to get in the same room. I’m glad to see my meddling had its desired effect.”

“Ray! How did you -”

“Patrick. You forget how connected I am in this town. Nothing gets past me.”

Patrick swivels back to face David with an incredulous look on his face, but David’s been in Schitt’s Creek longer and honestly, this is just how this town works. Smiling as he shakes his head, he looks over Patrick’s shoulder to meet Ray’s gaze.

“Thanks, Ray. I think we’ve got it from here though.”

Ray chuckles to himself as he pulls his camera bag over his head, smiling broadly as he passes them on his way to the kitchen.

“The certification is in Patrick’s bottom drawer. My home is always welcome to you, David. I quite enjoy your sense of humor. Your mother, however, I’m afraid she’s a puzzle I have yet to decipher.”

He’s gone before David can respond, but he’s been rendered a bit speechless anyway, so it’s probably a good thing. Ray is someone he hadn’t really given more than a passing thought to, but hearing that he’s made an impression on him, it’s more than a little surprising. He really doesn’t have a good handle on the way he’s seen in the world. Or this town.

“‘I’m so sorry about that, David, I…”

David cuts Patrick off with a quick kiss.

“I’m not. Ray’s nice. And if I’m going to be hanging out here, it’s probably good that we get to know each other a bit better.”

“Oh, are you planning on hanging out here? Should I give you two some privacy?” Patrick chides as his hands circle tighter around David’s back.

“I think there’s room for all three of us.”

David cringes as soon as that joke escapes his lips and Patrick’s head falls back in laughter. 

“Can you please kiss me so I can erase that thought from my brain?”

Patrick doesn’t waste a second, but the kiss he bestows on David’s mouth is too quick and he grumbles as soon as he’s pulling back.

“It’s the middle of my workday and Ray will be back out here any second.” Patrick gives David’s arm a quick squeeze before backing away and turning to head over to his desk. “Let me just get your certification.”

When he bends over to open his drawer, David takes a good long look at that spectacular ass, already wondering when he’ll be able to get his hands on it again.

“Oh, wait, I have a frame, let me just…”

Patrick’s digging through a box on his bookshelf and pulls out a frame that makes David recoil. It’s very off brand and corporate, not at all the aesthetic he’s going for with the refurbish. 

“Oh, that’s not necessary, I have something back at the lodge that will be perfect, you can just give me the certificate.”

Patrick looks over his shoulder and David smiles, hoping he hasn’t offended him, but perfectly willing to tell him that creatively, that frame just isn’t it. But Patrick just shrugs and drops the frame back into the box. 

After handing over the certificate to David, they find themselves just standing there, staring and smiling like absolute fools. 

“So, can we talk tomorrow?” Patrick finally asks, looking suddenly nervous with his hands once again buried deep in his unfortunate denim.

“We can talk whenever you like. Just preferably not before 10 am, um, cause, I’m not really a morning person.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this story. It was fun to play with the structure of these hallmark movies, with the immediate attraction which inevitably leads to a misunderstanding, followed by a quick resolution and a happy, happy ending. I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thank you to everyone who has commented so far. Your words have helped alleviate some stress during this crazy time. :)
> 
> And another huge thanks to my beta, Jess, You are the real VIP, er...MVP.


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